Note Poem by Vera Sidhwa

A note was given to me quickly,
And secretly.
I did not open it,
I did not wish to divulge it.

A second note was given to me in a haste.
It was given to me at a racing pace.
I did not open it.
I did not wish to divulge it.

A third note was handed to me,
For this note giver, I felt sorry,
For his begging and apprehension,
Over my non-acceptance.


A fourth note I gave him quick.
I knew I made a mistake.
I did want to read his notes.
I just thought he was someone stupid.


I opened note number one,
Two,
Then three.
They were all just white.
They were blank in the light.


He laughed and said,
I'll send you a note.



As I held the three notes,
Waiting for the fourth note,


I noted the joke was on me.